


An Interlude with Potions

by Lillielle



Series: A Breath of Romance, A Twist of Despair [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Potions, Potions Accident, Prelude to Smut, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillielle/pseuds/Lillielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I own nothing.</p>
<p>"Use your mind," he always says. Hermione would rather use other things...</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interlude with Potions

"Use your mind," he chides, in that obnoxiously affectionate way he has, and you crinkle your nose at him, torn between thwacking him with a stirring rod and kissing his overly bristled cheek.

"That's not the problem," you complain, waving the stirring rod about in the air like your wand, droplets of stray potion splattering the table top with a light hissing sound. "The problem is _your_ directions, they're bloody senseless! You don't even _need_ sunflower seeds for this potion!"

"Or do you?" he smirks, and returns to his newspaper. You can feel his gaze on you still, though, as you ponder the scribbled directions, the strong slashes of his handwriting giving you a slight fizzy feeling in your stomach.

"All right, fine," you decide aloud. "Sunflower seeds it is," and you drop the required three into the concoction as he watches. It turns a muddy brown and acquires the consistency of your last attempt at soup, and you sigh, letting the stirring rod fall to the table with a clatter.

"You forgot a step," he reminds you, almost gently, rising from his chair and setting his newspaper aside. "There, see? You have to stir counter-clockwise three times and _then_ add the sunflower seeds."

"Oh," you say, flustered.

"Take a break," he commands, tugging you closer. You squeak in surprise as you land against his chest, cradled against him in a blur of soft black robes.

"Yes, sir," you whisper, the familiar mischievous light coming to your eyes, as his mouth slants over yours. He has the faintest traces of coffee on his breath, but mostly, he just tastes like _him_ , and you gasp against his mouth as his tongue slides and tangles with your own. His hands fist in your bushy brown hair, and you whimper.

"Bedroom?" he pants and you nod, the useless potion already forgotten.

It can always be re-done tomorrow, you think as the bedroom door shuts behind you, and the scholarly side of your mind shuts off.

 _Plenty_ of time for that tomorrow.


End file.
